


Sexo de Vacaciones en La Playa (Holiday Sex On The Beach)

by WickedNerdAngel



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Beach Sex, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Cockles Cooperative Advent Calendar Challenge, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Holidays, Humor, Isla Mujeres, Island - Freeform, Jensen's feeling frisky, M/M, Mexico, No Angst, Vacation, absolutely no angst in this one!, beach, grumpy sleepy misha, sleepy wives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21856681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedNerdAngel/pseuds/WickedNerdAngel
Summary: It's just enough rolling turquoise waves crashing into powdery shores and salty sea air to give one a visceral sense of romance that doesn't seem to be felt the same anywhere else. Except maybe Rome.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Danneel Harris, Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins, Misha Collins/Vicki Vantoch
Comments: 15
Kudos: 54
Collections: Cockles Advent Calendar Challenge





	Sexo de Vacaciones en La Playa (Holiday Sex On The Beach)

**Author's Note:**

> The title says it all, Folks! In which Jensen really really wants to have sex on the beach with his boyfriend. Enjoy! 
> 
> Don't forget, I live for your comments and kudos! 
> 
> *Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. No disprespect to any person or persons mentioned in this fic.

***

Salty sea air billows through the barely open veranda doors as Jensen lays restless. His mind wandering to the room down the hall, to the man with toned, sunkissed skin, probably sleeping peacefully, and it makes him squirm. They've been on Isla Mujeres, a beautiful little island just a short ferry ride from Cancun, for a couple days and the drinks, sun and sand are minimizing his inhibitions more than ever before. 

He needs something.

And he needs it tonight. 

Danneel, bless her soul, notices his restlessness, and rolls over to wrap her arms around his bare torso. "Jen, baby," she coos. A familiar need coils in his belly at her sultry yet sleepy tone. "I know you need some time with him," she continues, "Go. I'm fine, and your tossing and turning is driving me bonkers."

"I love you so much," Jensen whispers, turning to plant a soft, wet kiss right on her lips. "Won't be gone long."

"Take your time," she insists, "I need sleep," she continues with a giggle. 

He pads down the hall softly, the door to Misha and Vicki's room creaking slightly as he pushes it open. He hesitates, not sure if he wants to wake the both of them, although he wouldn't be completely against it, if he's being honest. The fact that no one stirs answers that, and he walks as quietly as he can around to Misha's side of the bed. The soft snores coming from the man he adores make him hesitate. It almost makes him not want to wake him up. _Almost_. But the need he has for this man is too great tonight, and he's a selfish son of a bitch, so what are you gonna do? 

He reaches down and runs his fingers through Misha's messy locks, watching in the moonlight as his eyelids flutter but don't open… yet. He leans over and runs his lips up the stubble on that sharp, sexy jaw, kissing Misha's cheekbone before ascending to his ear. 

"Mish," he whispers. The man stirs again, but doesn't wake. Jensen pulls his earlobe between his lips, suckling lightly. 

"Mmm," Misha moans in his sleep. 

"Mish," Jensen whispers again, his breath on the shell of Misha's ear, making the man shiver and his eyes flutter open slightly. 

"Mm?" Misha mumbles sleepily, his unfocused ocean blue eyes searching Jensen's face and finally focusing on jade green irises. "Jens? Wha- what's up?" 

"Go for a walk with me?" he implores, eyes pleading.

"Baby, I'm tired," Misha grumbles.

"Please?” Jensen puts on his best puppy dog eyes, rivaling that of his on-screen brother Sam, and hopes it works. 

"Damn it", Misha whispers, and that's how Jensen knows it's working. "What time is it?" 

"Babe it's only midnight," Jensen coos, "you'll have plenty of time to sleep in after we're back." He knows that's bullshit. Misha Collins rarely, if ever, sleeps in, and hes - okay he's not necessarily _desperate_ , but he's getting this man outta _this_ bed one way or another, in the next thirty seconds. He leans in further, nosing at the bolt of Misha's jaw, feeling the man's quiet sigh, and his belly flutters. He wraps his lips around that sharp jaw, his teeth nibbling of their own accord, and Misha's hands fly to Jensen's hair on a gasp. "C'mon," he pleads again. 

"I swear to God," Vicki groans next to them, and they both freeze. "If you don't get out of here in the next five seconds, I'm kicking both of your adorable, yet annoying asses." She rolls over, taking the covers with her, exposing Misha's naked body, save for his ever-present orange underwear. 

"You heard her, Mish," Jensen's victorious smile can be heard in his voice. "The queen has spoken. Let's go." 

Misha groans as he gets out of bed, stumbling a little, only to be caught by his irritating boyfriend. "Easy, tiger," Jensen chuckles. He points at Misha's scivvies. "And take those off. We'll just wrap a towel around ourselves. Where we're going, we don't need underwear."

"Oh okay, fuck you, Doc Brown," Misha grumbles as he drops them and walks buck naked to the bathroom. Jensen's mouth waters. That asshole knows what he's doing and he does it on purpose. 

Jensen grabs a towel from the same bathroom, dropping his own boxer briefs and wrapping the towel around his slim waist as he struggles to catch up to his grumpy lover, who's already one foot out the sliding glass doors to the patio. Just as Misha steps off the patio onto the cool, white, silk-like sand, Jensen follows, wrapping his arms around him from behind. Large hands splay across Misha's chest, tips of fingers pressing into toned skin. Lips caress the back of Misha's neck, tongue darting out to taste salty, warm skin, and Jensen feels the other man's breathing pick up. He feels him lean further back into him, and Jensen's arms wrap tighter without his permission. 

Jensen waits until Misha's head lulls back onto the Texan's shoulder before he says, "I'm sorry, babe. I just needed to get you alone out here on this beautiful beach."

"My god, it is fucking beautiful out here, isn't it?" Misha finally says against the sound of waves crashing. Not crashing violently, though, as the side of the paradise-like island they're briefly inhabiting is usually glassy, calm waters. It's just enough rolling turquoise waves crashing into powdery shores and salty sea air to give one a visceral sense of romance that doesn't seem to be felt the same anywhere else. Except maybe Rome. 

Misha points off into the distance. "Look at that!" He exclaims with almost child-like enthusiasm (a far cry from the mumbling grump he was just a few minutes before). Jensen rests his stubbled chin on Misha's shoulder and looks in the direction he's pointing. His own eyes light up at the sight of palm trees adorned with Christmas lights all along the shoreline. Walking in the quaint, "Centro" of the island earlier, they'd seen a ton of commercialized holiday decorations, merchants calling to them as they walked by, "Señior! Señoritas! Regalos para tu familia! Gifts for your family! I have what you need right here!" They'd switch from Spanish to English, to make sure their potential patrons knew _they_ were the place for all of their shopping needs. 

It amused Jensen to no end, and he'd typically just reply with, "no gracias," politely, all of them attempting to continue walking, but not Misha. _Of course, not Misha._ The insufferable shit would stand there, trying to speak to them in broken Spanish, haggling, negotiating, getting to know just about everyone. By the end of their first day, his eccentric ass had an entire bag full of _Isla Mujeres_ trinkets and hand-made items, and although he rolls his eyes at Misha's antics on the daily, it makes him love the man even more. 

"It's beautiful," Jensen replies, nibbling Misha's ear, making the man squirm,"but not half as beautiful as you are in this Caribbean moonlight." 

Misha turns in his arms, staring at him intently, his irises rivaling the color of the turquoise Caribbean waters they see during the day. "Sentimental jerk," he finally says with a smirk, before kissing him square on the mouth. 

Their lips are salty from the air around them, Jensen's tongue darting out to taste Misha's like the rim of a margarita glass, and Misha moans in response. 

"You like it when I'm sentimental, you ass," Jensen teases on a whisper. 

"You're right, I do." Misha pulls Jensen's bottom lip between his teeth and tugs, his hands reaching around to the taller man's towel-clad ass to squeeze gently and pull him closer. 

"Mish," Jensen groans. He pulls away reluctantly and grabs his boyfriend's hand, tugging him forward. "C'mon," he says. If he was half hard when he woke Misha from his slumber, he's damn near at full mast _now._ "Someplace a little more private," he mutters almost inaudibly. As if this wasn't one of the most private areas on the island. Still, he prefers to _not_ have one of the locals get the pornographic surprise of their lives tonight. _I mean, Feliz Navidad,_ he muses to himself with a chuckle.

"What's funny?" Misha inquires.

"Nothing, Mish," Jensen quips, "just a little further."

 _This is so cliche,_ Jensen thinks to himself as they walk hand in hand along the moonlit, white powder sand. _Fuck,_ it feels good on his feet, though, and _fuck,_ he loves this. They have to walk along the water's edge at one point, around some rocks at the shoreline blocking their way to more seclusion, waves of the warm ocean curling around their ankles. Finally, they make it just past some palms and shrubbery to a little alcove on the beach. Nothing surrounds them but more palm trees, shrubs, and lights far _far_ off in the distance. 

_This is fucking perfecto._

He stands in front of the man he loves, his green eyes nearly watering at the absolute stunning beauty he sees, albeit a bit more in shadow now, but the moon is high, and relentless in its perception of Misha, and he finds himself suddenly speechless. 

"What's the matter, tough guy?" Misha grins. "Like what you see?" 

"Mmhmm.” Jensen nods, diving in for a searing kiss. His body is fire, goosebumps rising as the sea air caresses his skin. "Take my towel off," he whispers on a gasp, pulling away briefly, only to crash his lips back into Misha's, teeth nipping, tongue begging for entrance as Misha aquieces. The older man obliges Jensen's request, gently pulling the towel off his waist and, like the goddamn gentleman he is, breaks away from Jensen to lay the towel down flat on the sand. _God, he fucking loves him._

"My turn," Misha says, looking at Jensen through hooded eyelids. But a thought suddenly strikes the Texan, and he panics briefly. 

"Shit!" He mutters. "I forgot the lube!" _Goddamn it,_ and he really _really_ wanted 'sex on the beach' in the literal sense tonight. 

"You did, did you?” Misha's return grin is sly and dangerously sexy. Jensen's once again struck dumb, but he nods… and swallows. "Well that makes one of us," he deadpans, reaching into the knot of his towel and pulling out a small, hidden bottle. 

Jensen's mouth falls open, for more than one reason. "How the fuck did you…?" He trails off.

Misha raises one eyebrow at that before he says, "how dare you question my innovativeness, is the more appropriate question. Now take off my towel, asshole." 

Jensen wastes no time. He places Misha's towel right next to his on the sand, taking the tiny bottle of lube from him and also placing it on the towel, before grabbing this dominant son of a bitch and pulling his body flush with his own. They both groan obscenely as their erections press together, and Jensen's lips are off and exploring the toned skin of his partner. His tongue runs along the cord of Misha's neck as the other man lets his head fall back at the sensation. Jensen nibbles at his clavicle, running his open mouth across Misha's chest, lips taking purchase on one nipple then the other… scraping lightly with his teeth until Misha's chanting his name and grappling for his ass. 

_"Jens,"_ he moans, "I need you."

"I've got you, babe," Jensen whispers, his lips ascending finally back to Misha's, kissing him deep and slow. "Lay down on the towel?" Jensen knows better than to demand, but Misha obeys instantly anyway, scrambling onto his back on the towel. Jensen takes several moments to just stare at him until Misha begins to squirm and motion for him to _get his ass down there._ So Jensen finally relents, hovering over him only to continue staring. 

"Okay now it's getting creepy," Misha teases.

"I love you, Mish," Jensen whispers, breaking the silence with a whisper. 

"Love you too, tough guy. C'mere." 

Jensen dips down, smiling. The kiss is soft, saccharin sweet, with just enough heat to set both of them ablaze. Misha's hands roam over Jensen's hips, up over his back and around to his torso, blunt nails gliding over his nipples, making his now nearly dripping cock twitch in anticipation. 

_"Fuck, Mish,"_ he gasps as long fingers wrap around his shaft, fluidly moving up over the head and back down, jacking him painstakingly slowly. It's absolute fucking tortuous in the best way. Misha lets go, moving his hands to Jensen's back again, pulling until they're flush against each other. Jensen grinds into him and Misha's back arches off the towel with a guttural groan. They kiss again… deep, wet, tongues delving and retreating, the only other sounds, other than theirs are the sounds of ocean waves. 

_This is fucking paradise._

Jensen breaks the kiss, much to Misha's protesting growl, and moves himself down Misha's chest, leaving open mouth kisses all the way to his groin. The older man's hips jolt forward as Jensen licks a stripe from the base to the head of Misha's cock. He takes him into his mouth, and Misha's hands fly to Jensen's head. 

_"Fuck!"_ He cries out, fingers tangling in already messy locks. "Jens," he whines, fucking in and out of Jensen's mouth now, "I need you, baby." Jensen ignores it, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks hard, then taking him all the way to the back of his throat. _"Mother- fu- fucker,"_ Misha curses. "I need t- to be inside you, Jensen. Before I- _fuck_ \- before I come!" 

That certainly gets Jensen's attention. He pulls off with a grin, looking up at Misha through his lashes as Misha's chest heaves and he glares back down at him. 

"Get your hot-fucking-ass up here. Now." 

_Goddamn if that doesn't make his cock actually weep as it twitches again._

He crawls back up Misha's body, licking into his mouth as he hears the cap of the lube flick open. His head drops between his shoulders, a long strangled moan escaping through his teeth as Misha's warm, wet fingers rim his hole, and one slides directly inside, to the knuckle. A second and then a third finger enter him, and before he realizes it, they've abandoned him, and Misha's blunt cockhead is teasing at his entrance. 

Despite every cell in his body wanting him to slam himself down into it, he eases his way down, bottoming out finally to the cacophony of both their moans. Jensen moves slowly at first while Misha's hands rest on his hips, feeling every sensation as he grinds and swivels. Misha's fingers dig almost painfully into his skin, and he revels in the fact that he'll have marks there later. 

Their bodies are both glistening with sweat in the warm, salty breeze, their gasps almost in sync with the crashing waves. Jensen keens as Misha digs his heels into the towel to push himself deeper into him, grazing his prostate with each thrust. _"Mish,"_ he gasps, _"Mish… Mish,"_ chanting his name like a prayer. Misha's left hand reaches up curling around the back of Jensen's neck, pulling him down for a sloppy kiss, while his right reaches between them, fingers sliding along his shaft until he's gripped it. 

Jensen comes instantly, showering Misha's tan belly and chest in ropes of white while Misha's heels dig deeper, pressing harder and thrusting faster until he cries out, and Jensen feels him come undone inside him, pulsing relentlessly. 

The Texan collapses atop his lover, peppering his face with kisses, whispers of "I love you," and "so much, so much, Mish," over and over again. He reluctantly climbs off of Misha, lying next to him while their chests, still heaving, slow down and their breaths steady. 

"That… _that_ was fucking amazing, babe," Misha finally says. He turns his head to gaze at Jensen. Jensen reciprocates, staring once again, feeling utterly unworthy but absolutely, one hundred percent fucking loved if the look on Misha's face is true. (He knows it is, and it perplexes him every goddamn day.) "I'm glad you woke me up. I'm sorry I was a 'grumpy Ackles.'" 

Jensen reaches for Misha's hand, presses their palms together and intertwines their fingers before lifting them to his mouth and kissing Misha's knuckles. He does all this before it registers what exactly Misha'd just said, and then he grins. "Fuck you, Collins." 

"Mmm," Misha chuckles. "I think I just fucked _you_ , Ackles." 

"Yeah, I walked right into that one didn't I?"

"More like eased down on it slowly," Misha deadpans.

Jensen laughs loudly. "You never stop, do you?" It isn't a question, but Misha answers anyway.

"Nope." 

Jensen's idiotic smile nearly splits his face. He scoots over a little, leaning in to brush his lips lightly against Misha, eyes still open. "I love you, my Mish. Feliz Navidad."

Misha's smile rivals the younger man's in front of him. "Love you too, tough guy. And Merry Christmas to you too." He sighs. "Now let's go jump into the Caribbean and get cleaned off before the crabs come and pinch the fuck outta our dicks."

"Oh _god,_ Misha, what the fuck?" 

"Or the iguanas mistake them for giant worms." Misha's laughing now as Jensen jumps up in one fluid motion. (It suddenly dawns on Jensen just how rampant the iguanas are on this island. _Those little fuckers are everywhere!)_

"Jesus Christ, I didn't even think of that!" 

"Yeah," Misha laughs again, standing up slowly and grabbing the towels off the ground, shaking them gently while his 'tough guy' boyfriend continues to freak the fuck out. "That's what you have me for, babe, and that's precisely why I didn't say anything until you were properly fucked." He smirks and takes Jensen's hand. 

In the still softly glowing moonlight, their beautiful, yet less tan asses glow as they walk hand in hand into the warm, turquoise water of Isla Mujeres, Mexico, essentially and effectively mooning the paradise island behind them. 

***

El fin. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Feliz Navidad! Felices vacaciones!  
> (PS, this a real island. It's absolutelty stunning. I just spent a week there, and if you ever get the chance to go visit, please do! You'll never want to leave!)


End file.
